Unguarded Moments
by Harligh Quinn
Summary: Her ego was way too far in check for something as trivial as names and titles to affect her. But to think, he actually wanted to fire *her* when he didn't even know her name; And then he had the nerve to go ahead and just look at her like that...OLITZ
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Unguarded Moments

**Summary:** Normally things like this wouldn't have even bothered her. Her ego was way too far in check for something as trivial as names and titles to affect her. But to think he wanted to actually _fire_ her when he didn't even know her name. _And then he had the nerve to just go ahead and look at her like that._

**Notes (i.e. shameless pandering): **Still can't decide if I should just leave this as a one shot or continue… maybe if I get enough feedback I'll feel inspired. Let me know what you think HINT HINT.

* * *

It was late, _way_ late.

Late enough for the other staffers and even Cyrus to have already called it a night, and yet here she sat alone in a darkened alcove of the New Hampshire campaign office completely unable to move.

He didn't know who she was.

He had no idea. Absolutely none; zip, zero, zilch!

Two months on the job, slaving away tirelessly, working day and night in the background and he didn't even know her goddamn name.

Until today.

Normally things like this wouldn't have even bothered her. Her ego was way too far in check for something as trivial as names and titles to affect her. But to think he wanted to actually _fire_ her when he didn't even know her name...

_And then he had the nerve to just go ahead and look at her like that._

Shaking her head she tried to get the image of his steel grey eyes on her out of her mind. But every time she closed her eyes there he was again.

_Looking at her._

Just who the hell did he think he was anyway? Because she had a good mind to go up to his hotel room right now and tell him just who the hell Olivia Pope was; Cyrus and the entire campaign be damned. After all, there was no excuse for him –Mr. Governor aka a married father of two – to look at her like that … as if he already knew her… as if he _explicitly__ and desperately_ wanted to know _everything_ about her _in great detail_.

Absolutely none… zip, zero, _zilch_!

Not after today.

Staring down at the papers in her lap she reviewed all the information she had been provided on Fitz – _the Governor's_ – personal history. She knew everything from his first day of school to his last girlfriend before he met Mellie. She knew his favorite books, how he took his coffee and even how many sexual partners he'd had, but there was nothing in this file that would help her discern what it was she really wanted to know.

But what _that_ was she had no idea.

Still a nagging voice in the back of her head echoed that she _did know_ what she was looking for, except she was too chicken to admit it. But as soon as she heard that voice, she clamped down on her thoughts, mentally willing everything swirling around in her mind to stop.

Just for one _goddamn_ minute.

She didn't know when she fell asleep. But she knew the second she woke up to the feel of warm finger tips on her bare shoulder and piercing steel grey eyes observing her intently that she had made a critical miscalculation by camping out at the campaign headquarters. Inwardly she cursed, as she awkwardly adjusted her clothing and moved just out of his reach; unable to stop herself before the words fell out of her mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

In her sleep deprived frustration she winced and silently hoped the question didn't sound as ridiculous to him as it did to her, but he just smiled and looked at her with those eyes.

"I couldn't sleep…thought I'd get an early jump on today's events."

He was talking, she knew he was talking, but she couldn't think when he was looking at her like that. Shaking her head and momentarily tearing her eyes away from his, she scrambled to get up off the floor.

"What time is it?"

"Relax… It's barely sunrise. _**We **_still have a good forty-five minutes before anyone shows up."

His words hung their between them, slowly suffocating all the air out of the room as they just stood there; staring at one another. And even with all the blood quickly rushing to her head Olivia was only left to contemplate how just one word, two simple letters: '_w_' and '_e_' had the power to shift the entire world on its axis.

The idea of it was just so…

And suddenly she was giggling. Uncharacteristically, uncontrollably, whole heartedly and hysterically…giggling. As if someone had just let her in on the silliest, most ridiculous inside joke that ever existed, but the joke was on her and it wasn't even funny.

Not even a little bit.

Perhaps when she was younger and less self assured as she was now, she had sometimes wondered what it'd be like to fall head over heels for someone… and perhaps maybe, as a child, she dreamed that possibly, _just maybe_, there was someone out there who could inspire that feeling which all the classic love stories boil down to. But after all the years of waiting and wondering she had come to the conclusion that _that feeling_ and those stories just didn't happened to people like Olivia Pope. She was way too guarded, too caustic and too complex for that type of story to ever be hers and _he_… Well, he was just the most absurd part of the whole scenario because men like him…

Men like him, were way too smart and way too jaded to ever look much less _fall_ for someone like her. So the fluttering, somewhat sickening feeling slowly bubbling up from deep inside the pit of her stomach all the way down to the soles of her feet that she got the instant he looked at her – _really looked at her – _was just a figment of some terrible nightmare that she was going to wake up from.

Any moment now; she just had to wait for it. However long it took.

"Are you okay?"

At the sound of his voice Olivia was dragged back into the present moment, and the fact that it was just the two of them alone here... in his campaign office. Suddenly feeling light headed, she swayed and had to put one hand up on the wall behind her to keep from falling over; still unable to stop laughing.

For all his knowledge and composure, Fitz looked just as startled as she felt, but it wasn't until he reached out to steady her still quaking body that she could pull herself together.

"Don't!"

"Don't. Touch. Me…Okay?"

She knew she sounded shrill and unhinged, but Olivia could see the wheels turning inside his head and she knew better than to let a politician – especially one as skilled as himself – get a word in. So she shook her head and closed her eyes unable to _look_ at him a second longer.

Pushing away from him and the wall, she left her crib notes on the floor where she dropped them and hurried to the closest door, needing to escape.

"Olivia, wait!"

But she was already out the door and not certain that she could bring herself to walk back in today or ever. Especially if he kept looking at her like that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: And if there was such a thing as love at first sight… if Fitz had been the type of man to believe in such a ridiculous notion, that's what this moment would have boiled down to.**

**READ AND RESPOND.  
**

* * *

The first time she introduced herself to him wasn't actually the first time he had heard of her or even met her. No, embarrassingly enough, he had been acutely aware of her existence for weeks before she'd ever joined his campaign.

Not that she knew this, or he had any plan on letting her know that, _ever._

Because it had been a fluke; a complete and utter fluke that he had dropped by Cyrus' office the same night that she had come down from New York to tell Cyrus - in person no less - to stop harassing her because she had, quote:

"_Absolutely zero interest in helping some politically pandering, holier than thou, Richie Cunningham wannabe ascend to the most powerful position in the world."_

The comment alone was enough to stop him in his tracks just outside of Cyrus' door. Awkwardly, just now becoming aware of how silly his signature haircut, button down shirt and letter-man jacket combo made him look as he caught an image of his reflection on the glass case across from Cyrus' door. Although there had been more to her expertly worded diatribe on exactly what made Fitzgerald Grant "hopeless", it wasn't until after he'd nervously mussed up his perfect coiffed hair that he first realized how disarming she could be. The way she was able to accurately and effectively break down a person's entire character without ever actually meeting them was in a word, _uncanny_.

If he knew better, he'd have left that instant with his wounded pride and blissfully ignorant views on life still intact. But as it was, he instead chosen to creep closer to the door hoping to catch a glimpse of this person, or rather the _woman_, who so quickly had him pegged. Immediately, he pictured something between Sally Langston and a pitbull with lipstick. But rather than spying her, he caught Cyrus actively pacing his office while nearly shouting.

"_That's exactly why he needs you 'Liv! He might be a little rough around the edges, but I believe he could truly be the greatest voice of this generation. If he's going to be the next President of the United States he's going to need someone who's not afraid to tell him the truth. He going to need someone who's willing to cut through the bullshit and get right down to the heart. And that's you 'Liv! That's your role! So if I'm the brains, and he's the heart, that makes you the courage. All I need you to do is follow the yellow brick road…" _

"_Cyrus I —"_

Her voice had lost the fiery edge it had when he first heard it. He didn't know why he noticed it or why she sounded so strange without it. But he did. Even stranger, with the change in her tone he found the picture he had of her in his mind had changed as well; gone was the pitbull in a skirt and in its place…

In its place, was an image of a Judy Garland and the Emerald City. Yet, something about that image didn't seem quite right either.

"_You are a remarkable woman, Olivia Pope. I recognized it the first day you walked into my office. You just have this ability… this natural ability to see what other people can't see and do what others can't do. And I know it may not seem like it now, but Fitzgerald Grant is one of the Great Ones and if you could just—"_

"_I'm getting married, Cyrus. In five weeks! You know that. You have the invite, and you still haven't RSVP'd! Why are you doing this to me now? I have a wedding to plan; **I have a life to build **—**"**_

With each sentence Olivia's voice grew louder, as if she was advancing. But whether her goal was Cyrus or the door Fitz wasn't sure as they were both in the same area; not wanting to get caught in this precarious and awkward situation, Fitz hid in a small alcove next to Cyrus' office. Yet despite the awkwardness, Fitz was surprised to find himself oddly moved by her admission. Recalling the doubts he had right before his own wedding… wondering what he would have done had he been presented with this same option.

Wondering if she had any doubts now.

"_I know, I know… this is just — I wouldn't ask if I didn't think this was a good opportunity for you…"_

"_Cy—" _

That fiery edge that Fitz had noticed before was back with a vengeance. Cyrus must have noticed it too because he quickly changed his approach.

"_Just think about it, 'Liv. I don't want an answer right now. I just need you to think, about it. **Please**." _

Leaning a little bit further forward Fitz was struck with the somewhat jarring realization that Cyrus Beene was begging. Actually_** begging**_. If he hadn't been curious about this woman before, that fact alone would have been enough to send him over the edge. Because Cyrus Beene did not beg, and yet there he was, doing just that. Olivia must have realized it too because her tone change once again.

"_Just think?"_

Not for the last time, Fitz found himself eager to know what she was thinking.

"_Yes, just think."_

"_And if I come back and say no?"_

"_Then that'll be the end of it. You have my word."_

A brief pause followed before Fitz heard footsteps headed closer to the door. It felt like an eternity.

"_Okay_. _I'll __**think**__ about it."_

From his shadowy vantage point hidden in the alcove, Fitz couldn't help but release the breath he did not know he was holding. Back inside the room, Olivia and Cyrus continued their conversation.

"'_Liv?"_

"_Yeah, Cy?" _

"_Did I mention how spectacular you look tonight?"_

"_Nice try, Cy, but you should already know that I am immune to flattery."_

Hearing her voice coming from outside the office, Fitz sunk further into the small recess in the wall outside of Cyrus' office and waited to be blessed with his first real sight of her.

_"…besides, I **always** look spectacular."_

Whatever – _whoever_ – he was expecting to walk out of the room was the complete opposite of the sight that greeted him upon his first glance.

True enough, she did look spectacular, far better than anything he could have ever imagined. Clad in a strapless red silk gown with a slit up the thigh, she was clearly headed somewhere fancy and intimate. But it wasn't until she was halfway down the hall and paused beneath one of the recessed lights to adjust the strap on one of her heals that he truly got a sight of her.

Bent gracefully at the waist, the slit on her dress fell just so, he could see all the way up her mocha colored thigh. She adjusted her long, dark hair so it fell just over the opposite shoulder and exposed her neck and the deep V of her cleavage to him. In this moment, everything about her was sensual, seductive, perfect and alluring. Which was was a complete juxtaposition to the previous twenty minutes she had spent berating him. And if there was such a thing as love at first sight, if Fitz had been the type of man to believe in such a ridiculous notion, that's what this moment would have boiled down to.

Because it was embarrassing, bordering on humiliating, just how hard the sight of her alone made him. And even with all the blood rushing downward, even as he struggled to keep his composure while experiencing his own body's completely visceral and involuntary reaction, he found himself actually hoping that she would accept Cyrus's offer, if for no other reason than to be in her presence.

It wasn't until long after she and Cyrus had gone _— _without ever knowing he was there _—_ that he realized he was in trouble.

The first night he dreamed of her, he woke up even harder than he had been that night he hidden in the alcove… harder than he could remember ever being. When the dreams kept coming, when he couldn't sleep unless she did, it began to dawn on him just how much trouble he was in. The only solace that he could cling to was the tiny hope that she'd accept Cyrus offer.

Six weeks later he found himself oddly disappointed when Cyrus arrived the morning of his campaign kickoff alone. The entire day he spent with a fake smile plastered on his face hoping it would hide the disappointed and sleep deprived typhoon of emotion that bubbled just below the surface. As he was completely unable to stop himself from imagining her on some island paradise ... blissfully starting her new life _with her husband_. He was just about to call it a night when he spotted her familiar face standing in the wings of the auditorium he was speaking at for the evening.

And she was watching him _attentively_.

His voice stumbled mid-speech.

Momentarily forgetting what he was saying as a rush of adrenaline over took him. Shaking himself out of it, he concluded his speech on how '_they were going to take Iowa_', somehow already knowing that regardless of what happened tomorrow, he had already won something more precious.


End file.
